A Common Ground

We cannot find a common ground
To share a point of view,
For I stand here, in judgment, of
The things that make you, you

And you are there, entombed within
That fort of your devising;
That there’s no common ground for us
Just isn’t that surprising

But there’s a universal truth
In all strife to be found:
Our hatreds go with us to graves
Beneath a common
Ground

Hallways : Iceberg

No matter where we go, we find
These passageways from here to there;
The holes, the corridors, the ways
We travel through to find the fair
Or foul that life might offer us.

We sail to where the chances are
We’ll go where we’ve not gone before:
And risk, at times, our seeking lives
To squeeze through one last passage more –
It has been ever thus.

For nature beckons, many hear the call –
From hallways where there’s no return
At all

End of Life ‘Care’

Hospitals just bring out the cheerfulness in me. – Owen

These people see me now as something old;
A dusty, wrinkled thing – long broken down —
Not someone vibrant, who, with manifold
Expressive loving gifts dons this green gown

For I am no one now; not anyone.
These owlish, peering eyes that merely stare
Try to invoke humanity in them:
They look past me as though I was not there

They don’t mean ill, they do not feel at all;
I’m just another client in a bed —
Who’s so unprepossessing in his mien
That should I, in five minutes, turn up dead,

They’ll register that there are no heartbeats:
Then merely move the corpse, and change the sheets

Rainbow Falls

Rainbow Falls

(Originally posted July 2, 2014. – Owen)

Standing here as the text came in
Informing me that you had died
And there beside a perfect scene
I turned my head and cried

Tears for the man you could have been
Tears for a life that went astray
And somewhere, now, a rainbow falls
And a spirit floats away

They Called to Say…

They called to say you would no longer eat,
Or take your meds, or try to live at all;
The first I ever knew, at last to go
To follow Dad behind the giant wall

We love, but then in parenthood, it seems
That love is asymmetrical and strange;
Yet nothing is more normal than this love
That bonds us past our years, and strength, and range

There comes a time when we must yield the ghost
And move offstage, for all our lines are done;
But how I wish it need not be today,
As do us all – we creatures of the sun

I know I must accept this fate, this choice;
For from you came my reason, and my voice —

  And still I wish it wasn’t – wasn’t so —
  That you would leave,
  And I watch you

  Let go

Shoes

He’d heard that shoes could make the man.
And so he chose them, carefully:
To show his mastery and span
Of wide parts of society

But one day, when he had to go,
He left one here, to long decay;
It’s empty of its context now,
And baldly shorn of its cachet

For things that outward we display,
Without our inwards, lack all worth:
Like tracks whose trains have gone away,
Or blogs whose authors flee
The earth